


It Wasn't Love

by Rasalahuge



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Rare Pairings, Reference To Suicidal Thoughts, Reference to character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:19:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasalahuge/pseuds/Rasalahuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An archangel and the King of Hell don't fall in love. They do however discuss life and death, the Apocalypse and Paradise.</p>
<p>They were doomed from the start, but it might have been easier if it had been love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Wasn't Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheMermaidLord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMermaidLord/gifts).



> This is TheMermaidLord's fault. Apparently leaving a comment about how no one ships Raphael/Crowley leads to me writing late night fics.
> 
> Probably not one of my best works (given the late at night, lack of editing and speed at which it was written) but hey, this is the closest thing to smut that I can write so... enjoy anyway?

It was doomed from the start. They knew that and they had never fooled themselves otherwise. They lived in separate worlds with lives that never crossed except for one night each month. Orbiting around one another but never quite touching. If the world made sense they should never have even met and yet they had, one dark night when her charge tried to turn to him in desperation. Since that night, over a century ago, they had been drawn together, slowly, inexhaustibly into a tangled mess they could not escape if they wanted to.

He was manipulative and cruel and secretly wished to be touched.

She was cool and aloof but had never wanted to be alone.

It shouldn’t have worked, but somehow it did and because of that they found themselves lost.

***

“You’re helping _him_ ,” The melodic voice murmured into his ear, sending a shiver up his spine.

“Darling I won’t apologise for wanting to live,” he replied turning to meet dark, dangerous eyes. A hand as pale as the moon reached up to caress dark mahogany and those eyes fluttered shut unwillingly.

“I’d protect you,” She murmured, catching the hand before it could thread gentle fingers into her thick hair and instead opening her eyes to stare at him once more. “You know I would,”

“There is no place for me in Paradise,” He answered, his own eyes flickered from warm brown to solid brilliant scarlet. “We both know that,”

“I would _make_ you a place,” She insisted tugging away from him in order to glare.

“That’s not how it works,” he retorted sharply, “You’d fight your brother for _my_ sake? Don’t be ridiculous,” he snorted.

“You think I wouldn’t?” She demanded her eyes flashing dangerously. Her sharp features were cast into sudden shadow as lightning flashed behind her and the sky rumbled in warning. His eyes flickered back to warm brown as he sighed.

“I think you think so,” He said. His voice gentler than most would give him credit for, “But I think you need this relationship about as much as any powerful woman – not in the slightest. You’re lonely, understandably, and loneliness had led you to forget why you never told your brother about these… liaisons,”

“Is that all I am to you?” She asked.

“That’s all _I_ am to _you_ darling,” he replied easily, “I know what I am, I know what _you_ are. You couldn’t love me even if you were inclined to it. You say you’d fight your brother for me but in the end you wouldn’t.” he smiled bitterly, “I don’t blame you for that. We live in very different worlds,”

As he spoke her face contorted briefly, hard and dangerous, before it broke and she sagged down against him, bare skin pressing against bare skin a contrast of light and dark. Around them silken sheets pooled the flicker of light from the fire dancing across them and reflected in the sheen. Outside the enormous ornate windows the threatening storm died with a murmur.

“It would be easier if I did love you,” She admitted trailing fingers across his chest.

“No it wouldn’t,” he replied easily, “It would make the next part even harder,”

“We won’t both survive this,” She said and he chuckled darkly, morbidly.

“That’s what we said about the Apocalypse darling and we’re still here aren’t we?” he asked and she snorted indelicately.

“This isn’t the Apocalypse,” She replied coolly. Her dark eyes were focused on her dancing fingers rather than on him. “It isn’t even the prelude to the Apocalypse,”

“You expect to lose,” He murmured.

“If you and he open Purgatory I will,” She replied easily and then smiled for the first time that night. Sad and bitter but also with some measure of relief in them, as if the thought did not bother her at all. “I’m not even sure I would mind all that much.”

“I’ll let him know, he’ll be delighted,” he chuckled. He raised his own fingers to dance over her skin in a mirror to her. His skin was slightly chilled, his essence not quite enough to wipe away the chill of death. Her skin was warm and crackled with static, not quite enough to contain what was folded up within. 

“Oh? And _how_ would you explain how you know that? I’m not the only one keeping this _liaison_ a secret,” She retorted.

“I’d think of a way,” he smirked leaning down to follow his fingers with a pair of lips. She sighed at the light touch, far softer than would be expected from someone like him.

There were no more words after that. When they parted it was with a look that said more than words ever could. It was not the last time they met, nor even the last liaison. It would however prove to be the last time they truly spoke to one another.

***

They had been doomed from the start. Yet when he offered her the power of God at her fingertips, the promise of restoring those she had lost, she did not turn him away. And when they were both tricked and he watched the one who tricked them turn her into ash and star dust he grieved for her loss.

Three years later, chained to a chair, forced through a trial by blood to return him to mortality he thought of her.

He thought perhaps it would have been easier if it _had_ been love.

At least then she might have forgiven him for wanting her back so desperately; even if it meant bringing her back to a life of loneliness and suffering that she hated.


End file.
